Of all the tales that could have been

Dreams tainted in blood,
having become a shadow on an empty wall to stare at,
embracing the echo of a sparkle having died within a lost moment in time.
Just let it drown.

Hidden deep inside,
the part with all the warmth and the oh!-so beating heart,
that urges to wake up and fight for things so close to the soul leaking out into a world gone cold.
Let it drown.

Some things have to be silenced,
and disappear into the sea of gray that once had been full of a purple sparkle,
and break itself into
a thousand unheard frequencies.

For otherwise
this body will break and the skin will rip apart and tell
that nothing is ever left,

of all the tales that could have been,
of all the things that never were,
I need another witching dream.

My witching autumn desk

This was my longest quiet. My witch took a few weeks off. I have a lot of things to say, dark and urgent things! But my health made me pause everything. The first time in my life I’m saying that. I’ll be back in the next few days! Until then, enjoy the witching mood at…

Why do we stop doing things?

“When for health reasons we stop being ourselves, what is left then? ”, I complain to my witch just when the cold and dark season is ready to arrive. I am usually decorating a cake when the message I am dreading arrives. The pastry bag in hand, I read one cancellation after another. Of course,…

When we fall …

Who’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us all?Who’ll be thereIn the end? Late at nightI hear his voiceAnd I know thatHe waved her goodbyeThrough the noiseOf a world turning away. Laughter fromA window aboveBlurry lightsAnd I know thatShe gave upon loveRight there. And I wonderWho’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us…

Published by Mistress Witch writes

About the historical horror of living. Drafting my witching novel. Chasing dark, forgotten and haunted tales.

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